


Into the Blue

by Flynne



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: M/M, Nathan Hawke - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-02-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:27:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22537771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flynne/pseuds/Flynne
Summary: A moment at sunrise reminds Anders that there's beauty in the world, even in Kirkwall.
Relationships: Anders/Male Hawke
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	Into the Blue

Anders can never decide if crawling out of Kirkwall’s sewer is a relief, or if it just makes him feel worse, emerging into the fresh air with the muck and smell still clinging to him. Of course, ‘fresh air’ is being generous. Following behind him, Nathan takes a deep breath and immediately wrinkles his nose as the scent of garbage wafts up the alley. 

“Well,” Varric grimaces, scraping something unmentionable off the sole of his boot, “at least the Carta will stop hassling those merchants.”

Fenris lets the sewer hatch clang shut behind them. “Debatable whether or not it’s worth the smell.” There’s still Carta blood spattered on his face, but it’s early and the streets are empty, and no one is around to stare.

The clanging of a distant bell echoes faintly off the buildings looming over them. Anders and the others are too drained to pay much attention, but Nathan looks up and the tired slump lifts from his shoulders. He moves forward and slips his hand into Anders’. “You two go on ahead,” he says, ignoring the startled look Anders gives him. “We’ll go back a different way.”

Anders raises his brows but doesn’t pull his hand away. “We will?”

“Yes.” Nathan is already starting to smile in anticipation, and there’s an excitement in his eyes that Anders seldom sees. 

So he holds on and follows Nathan through the narrow streets, leaving Varric and Fenris to make their way back to the Hanged Man on their own. The brassy sound of the bell gets louder as they approach the docks, and before long he can hear the sound of voices. It sounds like… “Is that singing?”

Nathan just grins. “Come on.” 

It’s definitely singing. Men’s voices, mostly, gruff and loud, but distorted by distance and echoes and still hard to hear. Nathan slips down a side street and lets go of Anders’ hand to climb a rickety looking scaffold on the side of a warehouse. Anders gives his head a bemused little shake but follows behind. The scaffold rattles alarmingly as he reaches the top, but Nathan reaches down with a sturdy hand and helps him up. 

The wind buffets them right away, but at this height the air is fresh and clean, free from the reek of old fish and stagnant water that permeates the docks. The warehouse they’ve climbed isn’t the tallest building around, but it has an unobstructed view of the harbor. The sound of the bell is louder now, and he hears the shouts of the longshoremen as the great chain nets are lowered. Out beyond the harbor, a ship is gliding in, and from the deck - 

\- a deep baritone rises above the wind, echoed by a boisterous choir singing in rough harmony as the flags on the masts snap joyfully in the wind off the sea. The tune is simple, the voices are untrained and harsh with years of salt and sea air, and he suspects the nearly unintelligible lyrics are coarse, but the sound of it still stirs something deep within Anders’ chest. It’s unexpectedly beautiful and it pierces his heart, and the sudden tears in his eyes are more than just the result of staring into the rising sun. 

“I used to come here a lot,” Nathan says, speaking just loud enough to be heard above the wind and the song. “When I first came to Kirkwall. A lot of errands for Athenril took me by the docks and whenever I heard the ships coming in, I would climb up here to watch and listen.” He smiles wistfully. “It was…one of the things that helped me make it through that year.”

Anders takes a breath of clean sea air as the gulls cry, reaching out blindly and finding Nathan’s hand, steady and warm. “All the time I’ve been in Kirkwall, I’ve never seen this.” He turns and sees that instead of watching the ship, Nathan is watching him. The pink and orange sunrise brightens to brilliant gold and lights his face. Anders lifts a hand to caress his cheek. “You keep surprising me.” This close, the joy in Nathan’s eyes is nearly blinding. “Should I be worried you’ll run off to join Isabela’s crew and turn pirate?” 

Nathan laughs. “Not a chance.” He’s due for a shave and when he leans into the touch, his cheek is rough against Anders’ palm. 

They’ve been up all night; they’re sore and dirty, and Kirkwall is still a cesspool - but they can’t see any of the city’s ugliness from where they stand now. Right now all they can see is the sunrise glimmering on the wide sea. Nathan kisses him high above the harbor, in the sunlight and the wind, with the gulls calling out and the sailors’ shanty ringing through the air, and in that moment Anders feels as if his weary heart can fly.


End file.
